


burning up for you

by haleofStilesheart



Series: Kink Prompts [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Knotting, Love Confessions, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Stiles Stilinski, Riding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-11 06:17:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8962168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haleofStilesheart/pseuds/haleofStilesheart
Summary: Stiles is an omega of considerable means which means he doesn't have to worry much about going through his heats alone. He just has to worry about falling in love with the alpha seeing him through them.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Anonymous](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymous/gifts).



> For the kink prompt: Derek as rich brat boy Stiles' reverse-sugar daddy (i.e. top!Derek, but paid)

As an omega of somewhat considerable means, Stiles never had to worry about going through a heat alone.

After he had turned eighteen―having officially presented as an omega at seventeen to the surprise of nearly everyone who knew him, even just in passing―his dad had started the arduous, and often traumatizingly embarrassing, search for an alpha to help see Stiles through his heats. It was a typical occurrence for omegas and their families, hiring an alpha, something that most accepted as a simple fact of life while others compared it to sexual slavery, nevermind the fact that it was merely business.

It had taken the Sheriff months of extensive interviews and grueling interrogations with various alphas before they had finally found Stiles a suitable heat partner. Said partner none other than the Sheriff’s most decorated, most dedicated deputy: one alpha by the name of Derek Hale.

By his own admission, the Sheriff had never once thought to look within his own department for an alpha, not wanting to blur the lines between his work and personal lives too much. Not until the incident with the arrested alpha.

Stiles had been dropping off a healthy lunch for the Sheriff at the station when an alpha who had been in the station’s holding cell, waiting to be booked for a drunk and disorderly, started harassing Stiles. He had called Stiles a colorful array of disparaging, derogatory omega slurs, making all sorts of disgusting, demeaning sexual comments. 

Paralyzed in both humiliation and anger, not sure whether to cry or scream in anger, Stiles had simply stood there in the middle of the station, helpless to stop the barrage of insults and sleazy propositions. His only salvation came in the form of Derek who had rushed to his side after entering the bullpen from the evidence room, flashing his eyes at the alpha in the holding cell until he relented and bared his throat, falling silent as Derek viciously growled at him.

Afterward, Derek had escorted Stiles to the Sheriff’s office, making absolutely sure he was alright before leaving to get back to work, having to file some pertinent paperwork. He had flared his eyes at the other alpha again for good measure as he passed on his way to his desk, smirking to himself as the grown man whimpered like a pup.

The Sheriff had approached Derek later that same evening to see if he would have any interest in assisting with Stiles’ heats, after thoroughly discussing the idea with Stiles first, of course, Derek one of the only alphas Stiles had ever approved of. Derek had been pretty amenable to the idea, agreeing to the terms the Sheriff laid out without insisting on adding any additional terms of his own to better benefit himself, only asking for a comfortable bed.

It had originally been a ruse to keep other alphas from sniffing around during Stiles’ heats, the presence of another eligible, virile alpha of fine breeding enough to deter them from chasing after Stiles like a pack of horny whelps. But of course, their little arrangement did not remain completely innocuous for very long at all. 

After months of Derek staying in the Stilinskis’ spare bedroom for the duration of Stiles’ heat, providing a shirt soaked in his alpha pheromones for Stiles to bury his nose in while in the throes of said heat, eating meals with the Sheriff and sometimes Stiles when his heat lust was somewhat manageable, and patrolling the perimeter of the Stilinski home, their arrangement changed drastically.

Unable to continue coping with his debilitating heat cramps and other heat symptoms, Stiles had practically begged his father to find him an  _ actual _ alpha heat partner, hoping to make his heats a little bit less insufferable. Rather than go in search of another alpha he trusted even a fraction as much as he did the one he already had in his employment, the Sheriff had approached Derek for the most awkward conversation of either of their lives.

So, for the past three months, Derek had been fulfilling his duties as Stiles’ official heat partner. In every sense of the word. Thus why Derek was currently reclining completely naked in the cushioned armchair in Stiles’ bedroom as Stiles rode him. 

Desperately chasing release, his third on in the past forty five minutes, Stiles raised himself up on his knees only to slam back down and moan shamelessly as the head of Derek’s cock nailed his prostate dead-on. Derek, who was at the point essentially being used as a glorified sex toy, not that he was complaining one bit, simply tightened his grip on Stiles’ slim hips as he rocked up against him, dragging his cock over Stiles’ sensitive prostate.

He smirked to himself when Stiles keened wantonly, clenching around him as the delicious sound clawed its way out of his throat, loud and guttural, his voice hoarse and gravelly from all the moaning he had already done that night. Derek, in true alpha fashion, couldn’t resist puffing out his chest at the knowledge he had pleased his omega so.

Shaking himself to clear his head of any thoughts of Stiles  _ actually _ being his, Derek thrust up into him again, squeezing his hip hard enough to leave faint bruises, wanting to see Stiles wearing his mark. He trailed his lips over the enticing, sweat-slicked curve of Stiles’ shoulder, licking the salt off his smooth, pale skin, dragging his teeth over a cord of muscle in his neck.

Stiles whimpered at the hot glide of Derek’s tongue over his skin, pressing back against him to take him even deeper, engulfing Derek in the most glorious slick, wet heat that was just shy of being too tight. He couldn’t wait to knot him, grinding his hips against Stiles’ ass in his frenzied haste to pump Stiles full of his cum.

“Derek!” Stiles whined, digging his fingers into the arms of the chair as Derek rocked up into him, face pressed against the back of Stiles’ neck, tongue still teasing over his skin, nose nestled in the sweaty hair at the nape of his neck. Moaning again, Stiles resumed his sinful movements, lifting himself up on his knees before dropping back down to spear himself on Derek’s thick cock. 

Derek was in awe, the way he always was when it came to Stiles, watching as the omega greedily took his pleasure from Derek’s body, bouncing on his cock like his life depended on it. Stiles had never behaved this way during sex before, typically so submissive and dare he say shy in bed, in stark contrast to his usual brash, confident demeanor.

But that night Stiles had brought all that reckless confidence to bed, initiating things by dropping to his knees and nuzzling his face against Derek’s hard cock through his sweatpants, hand down his own pants to start fingering himself. Derek had been helpless to deny him, quickly stripping out of his sweats, the only article of clothing he had been wearing, already three days into Stiles’ heat, and took a seat in the chair as Stiles gave him the most enthusiastic blowjob of his life.

After making Derek come once, swallowing him down like the sweetest treat, Stiles had eagerly scrambled into his lap. He had kept his back to Derek as he lined up the alpha’s cock to his hole and sunk down until Derek bottomed out, both of them groaning together in unison.

Twisting, Stiles threw his left arm around Derek’s shoulders, burying his hand in Derek’s hair as he gyrated his hips in a torturously slow corkscrew motion. Tugging the sweaty strands of Derek’s hair, Stiles guided him into a desperate, sloppy kiss, too far gone in heat for any real finesse as he licked into Derek’s mouth, nipping at his bottom lip and sucking on the tip of his tongue.

_ This. This  _ was why Derek sometimes forgot himself.

Why he spent every night of Stiles’ heat curled up in his bed rather than scurrying down the hall to the guest room to wait for Stiles to call him when he needed his knot again. Why he cuddled Stiles after each and every round of sex, both ensuring that he was alright―that he wasn’t too sore, that Derek hadn’t accidentally hurt him―and basking in the intermingling of their scents.

Why he made him breakfast in bed every morning of his heat and made sure he always had enough fluids, stocking up on bottles of water and Stiles’ favorite flavor of Gatorade (green apple). Why he always brought a bag of books and movies with him to keep Stiles entertained while they waited for Derek’s knot to go down, not caring how many times he watched Star Wars as long as it meant he got to wrap his arms around Stiles.

Kissing was unheard of in these types of arrangements.

Derek was getting paid to fuck Stiles, to knot him, to make his heats more bearable and keep him from seeking out some other asshole alpha who would just take advantage. That was all.

He wasn’t supposed to love him. But he did.

He couldn’t help it. Couldn’t resist falling absolutely ass over ankles for Stiles long before the Sheriff had recruited him to assist during Stiles’ heats. He loved everything about Stiles, from his jarring wit to his acerbic tongue, his wide open smiles to the moles dotting his skin.

If he had to pinpoint the exact moment he had fallen in love with Stiles, he would have to say it was the first time he had seen Stiles storm into the sheriff’s station, a whirlwind of flannel and disheveled hair. He had then immediately proceeded to chastise the Sheriff for sneaking junk food into the house yet again.

Derek had never seen the Sheriff look so crestfallen and pink-cheeked, eerily resembling a scolded puppy as his slumped his shoulders and solemnly promised to throw out the box of Twinkies when he got home. Somehow he had looked even more dejected when Stiles had claimed he had already thrown the offending, cholesterol skyrocketing treats away. 

He was startled out of his distracted reminiscing when tugged none too gently on his hair, just shy of painful, as he groaned his name, hips moving faster against Derek’s. Tilting his head, Derek caught Stiles’ tantalizing lips in another heated kiss, raising his right hand to cup his cheek as he thrust up into him, smiling into the kiss when Stiles whimpered.

“Derek…” Stiles mumbled against his cheek, breaking the kiss to draw in short, panting breaths, his lips wet and puffy pink. “Feels so good…”

“Yeah, baby?” Derek asked, trailing his lips over the side of Stiles’ throat, kissing over the hickey he had left there the previous night. He moved his hand from Stiles’ cheek to drag his thumb over Stiles’ nipple, circling it over the pebbled bud, basking in the sound the small movement wrenched from Stiles’ throat. “That feel good?”

“Yeah. Yeah, feels so good,” Stiles panted, pressing his cheek against Derek’s forehead, scratching his short nails over Derek’s scalp. He bit his lip as Derek ran his warm hands all over him; tweaking his nipples, caressing his inner thighs, teasingly drifting over his hard cock. “Derek, please.” 

“What, baby?” Derek teased with a wicked grin, lightly nipping at Stiles’ earlobe with an elongated fang as he dragged his knuckles along the underside of Stiles’ cock. After a moment, Stiles actually shaking in anticipation, Derek finally wrapped his hand around Stiles’ cock, jerking him off with slow, measured strokes, chuckling when Stiles threw his head back and groaned in relief. “That what you need?”

“Yes!” Stiles squeaked, hips jerking erratically as he simultaneously fucked up into Derek’s warm fist and fucked back onto Derek’s cock, “S’good… So good…”

“You close? You gonna come?” Derek whispered, voice deep and husky as he barely refrained from grunting, the feel of Stiles undulating his hips driving him crazy with pleasure. “You gonna come for me?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Stiles babbled, quickening the motion of his hips when Derek tightened his hand around him, sweeping his thumb over the head of Stiles’ cock that was leaking precum over Derek’s fingers. “Derek, please… M’close…”

“I know, Stiles. I know,” Derek murmured, tightening his free hand’s grip on Stiles’ hip and helping him bounce on his cock. Speeding up his strokes, Derek urged, “Just hold on a little bit longer, baby. Want you to come on my knot.”

Stiles was extremely amenable to the idea, eagerly moaning, “Yeah… Yeah, wanna come on your knot. Wanna come on your big, thick knot. Wanna come all over your hand.”

Derek couldn’t help but chuckle at the filthy stream of words pouring freely out of Stiles’ wicked little mouth, a devout fan of Stiles’ dirty talk. Leaning in closer, Derek pressed for more, “Yeah? You wanna come on my knot? Like a good little omega? Wanna get pumped full of my cum? Want me to fill your little ass up?”

“Yes!” Stiles keened, at a loss for any other words. Derek was slamming up into him, fisting his cock and kissing his neck as he did, inundating him with an onslaught of delicious, overwhelming sensation, his heat heightening every touch. But it wasn’t as though words were truly necessary. 

Gritting his teeth against the force of his oncoming orgasm, Derek fought to resist the urge to bury his fangs in the juncture of Stiles’ neck and shoulder, wanting nothing more than for Stiles to wear his mark, to really be his. He growled through his teeth as his knot began expanding inside Stiles, digging his fingers into the meat of Stiles’ hip, hard enough that the next morning he would most definitely be wearing bruises.

Stiles mewled as Derek’s knot locked inside him, ceasing the motion of his hips, suddenly stilling as Derek’s knot pressed just so against his prostate, spilling out his own orgasm all over Derek’s fingers. He sagged back against Derek’s chest, head resting on his shoulder, as he tried to catch his breath, his own chest heaving as Derek filled him with cum.

Once they had both caught their breath, Derek’s face nestled against the side of Stiles’ neck as he lazily kissed over his shoulder, he ran a hand down Stiles’ side and stated the obvious, “So… That was different.”

Stiles breathed out a startled laugh, turning his head to look back at Derek with a wide, mischievous smile, much more lucid now that he had come, the haze of his heat dissipating for at least another hour. Playfully slapping Derek’s thigh, he agreed, “Yeah. Gotta be spontaneous, y’know? Keep my man on his toes.”

Rather than laugh at what was clearly intended to be a joke, Derek furrowed his brow at him, beyond confused at who Stiles was referring to. A moment later, a surge of possessiveness and jealousy overrode his confusion, hands tightening on Stiles’ hips as he snapped, “Your man? Who?”

Whining at Derek’s bruising grip, Stiles squirmed in his lap, inadvertently shifting the knot inside him, rubbing it up against his prostate just right. A moan still on his lips, Stiles leaned in a few inches closer, raising a hand to smooth out the furrow of Derek’s eyebrows with a thumb. Snorting quietly, he mumbled, “You, dumbass.”

“Me?” Derek asked incredulously, head jerking back in surprise. “Stiles, what the hell are you talking about?”

Apparently, that wasn’t the right thing to say as Stiles timidly lowered his eyes and softly pleaded, “Please don’t be mad at me.”

Derek was thoroughly baffled, running through a mental list of potential reasons why he could possibly be upset with Stiles, coming up with absolutely nothing, Stiles’ words still not making any sense. 

“I’m sorry,” Stiles sniffled, hiding his face in the crook of Derek’s neck, pressing his cheek against his collarbone as he began crying softly. The wolf in Derek whined at their omega’s distress, wanting to do anything to stop his tears, but he waited to hear what Stiles had to say. 

“I-I know you’re only here, only with me, because we’re paying you―Jesus Christ, I’m like a fucking prostitute―but-but…” Stiles trailed off, dissolving into choked sobs as he clutched at Derek desperately, pressing impossibly closer. Derek immediately wound his arms around Stiles’ waist, whimpering subvocally into Stiles’ hair, trying to console him without words. “I-I just really love you. I’m sorry, Derek!”

Exhaling in both immense relief and intense surprise, Derek felt a wide smile stretch across his face, running his nose along Stiles’ hairline with a happy rumble. Gently squeezing Stiles, Derek soothed, “Oh, Stiles… Shh, it’s alright my little omega. You don’t have to be sorry. I―”

“But, Derek, I―”

“Shh…” Derek hushed him gently, raising a hand to bury in Stiles’ hair, stroking over his scalp. “You don’t have to be sorry. It’s a good thing. I love you too, my sweet omega.”

“What?” Stiles murmured, pulling back with a sniff to look at Derek, hope and disbelief written clearly across his face. Derek just smiled at him. “Really?”

“Really,” Derek confirmed, guiding Stiles into a quick kiss. Well, looked like Stiles really was his omega, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr at [hale-of-stiles-heart.tumblr.com](http://hale-of-stiles-heart.tumblr.com/)


End file.
